I guess I'm lucky that I lost my parents young and quickly. I went to bed and in the morning they were gone. The longer your parents are around, the harder it must be to lose them.
The resident being spoken to above can't hardly get out of bed. Rolling them over makes them cry. They're on heavy duty pain medication and have been under hospice care for months. And yet one of the children needs to try to fight off the Angel of Death anyway.
Brad says that if it were me lying in that bed, he'd do everything he could to keep me here. I told him that I loved him enough not to let him lie there and suffer any longer than God wanted him to. Death is not necessarily worse than life. We're just afraid of being left behind.
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